Set Fire to the Rain
by RennFlight
Summary: Who is he, anymore? Not a shadow. Not her lover. Not a memory, preserved. He's no longer dying laughter, fading smiles, hands slipping away. He's ... new.
1. Parting of the Ways

set fire to the rain: part i

She walks in, chattering happily. He closes the door behind her, not saying a word, just listening and nodding. She lets her bags and keys on the clatter; they land with a rattle and a bang. He walks past, whirls around.

"Rose!"

Suddenly silence fills the room, now, and the air is charged with tension. He shatters it, his voice so loud and harsh, his dark eyes angry.

"I can't do this, Rose. I'm not him. I'm me, I'm human! One heart! And - Rose - this isn't how it's supposed to be. You're clinging to memories of him and I'm pretending and I'm never good enough! I'm sorry that humanity was never enough for you, Rose, but I'm sick of always standing in the shadow of who I'm supposed to be!"

He stops abruptly, runs his hands through his hair. His gaze is teary as it meets hers. Rose is shell-shocked, though from his tone or his words it's impossible for him to tell.

"I - I don't - I'm sorry." Her voice is no louder than a whisper, and it's barely that. Her brown eyes lock onto his before looking down, tendrils of blond hair escaping their constraints and falling into her face. From habit, he reaches up to tuck them away before he freezes. His hand slowly lowers to his side. "I ... I never wanted to hurt you," she finally chokes out, then turns away, hiding her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry. I - I'll ... I'll just go." Rose Tyler backs away from the human Doctor, from her shadowy lover. From her make-do. She thinks that maybe, just maybe, it's time to star finding her dreams, her magic, her make-believe. Her Doctor.

The door slides slowly closed behind her, shutting with a click. The brisk fall air washes over him, as he whispers belatedly to now-empty air. "But I'll always love you,"


	2. Alright

set fire to the rain: part ii

When she's gone, he slowly sinks to the ground, and leans back against the cold and rough wall. Her scent lingers - rain, fresh earth, blossoming roses. He breathes in deep, and knows it's over. All of it; everything that kept him tethered to who he used to be has left him now. Well, except his hand. A strangled laugh escapes his lips - a stranger's lips - as he wiggles his fingers. He is alone, with no one left to know that he has nine hundred years of memories, despite the fact that he looks to be in his thirties, despite the fact that he has only existed for the last two years.

He eventually gets back up. He doesn't know what to do now that she's no longer here. Who is he, anymore? Not a shadow. Not her lover. Not a memory, preserved. He's no longer dying laughter, fading smiles, hands slipping away. He's ... new.

He names himself. An ordinary sort of name. David Brown. So average. So alive. David feels that he's got a chance for street corners and taxis, that he just might have a future. One outside regret.

He gets a job, as well, working for the British National Space Centre, or BNSC. He helps engineers. Thinks it funny, little David Brown, being so good at building. He has to be careful, though, not to change the future of the human race by knowing too much.

After a while, David Brown moves out of John Smith and Rose Tyler's home. He gets a flat, in Ipswich, commutes to work. David travels to the sea on weekends, too. He sits on the dunes, wearing casual jeans and a button up shirt. No tie. He gazes out across the water, but doesn't think too hard. It wouldn't be difficult to remember too much, but David is doing okay. Because, how ever much he sometimes feels like this whole life is suffocating him, he still has so much to see - for though he no longer has all of time and space at his fingertips, he does have now. He makes the most of it, and sees everything he can.

And, eventually, there is a street corner and there is a pretty girl in need of a taxi. He pays, drops her off at her home. He finds her phone number in his pocket, and he smiles, before asking the driver to make a quick stop. Mr. Brown buys a cell phone, then procedes to figure out how to work it.

For once in his life, he's alright. He really is.


End file.
